


down on your knees, you don't look so tall

by writtensoul



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, but he figures it out, harry's a bit of a butt, so be wary, there's a lot of misgendered dirty talk, this is very very naughty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtensoul/pseuds/writtensoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis and harry are friends, and best ones at that. louis loves harry more fiercely more than he's ever loved anyone, so he doesn't really have a problem with it when they start doing this thing. this wonderful, wonderful thing. </p>
<p>(or, as cliche as this style of summary is, a fic where louis and harry are wanking buddies but nothing more)</p>
            </blockquote>





	down on your knees, you don't look so tall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Destiny](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Destiny).



> i'ts seven in themrongin and i sohOYLs be alspee this is your faul t destiny

Louis loves a lot of things about Harry. He loves how generous he is, how his curls are curlier when he wakes up in the morning because of how sweaty he gets when he tosses and turns in bed, how he tries his very best to make everyone around him happy; but most of all Louis loves how Harry looks when he comes.

 

It’s probably not a normal thing that Louis has seen his best friend jack off a couple feet away from him with a computer screen in front of them both and their pants around their ankles. Louis won’t even try to deny how fucking gay it is, that they both frequently have their hands on their dicks while they watch straight porn and definitely don’t stare at each other, let alone acknowledge that the other is there. He’s not going to say anything, though, because Harry’s has expressly said how much he _loves_ pussy and would never touch a dick.

It’d started out initially with them just watching a movie on Harry’s laptop in his bed; just a casual, laddish thing that any pair of best friends would do on a Friday night. Afterward Louis had yawned and curled up on his side of the bed, blinking his eyes shut and assuming Harry would follow him and then Louis would be able to do his traditional act of watching Harry’s chest rise and fall, because it’s such a beautiful thing to him – that Harry’s a real thing, and _his_ real thing. If only in a platonic manner.

Only, Harry doesn’t turn onto his side and fall asleep. He keeps messing around on his laptop – Louis can hear his monkey hands tapping across the keys - and Louis turns back to Harry to whine and grumble about how loud he’s being, when Louis is trying to get his beauty sleep, but he stops short when he sees Harry’s hand down his pants and Pornhub up on the screen.

“Uh...what’cha doing?” Louis asks tentatively, not even sure if he should have even let Harry know that he was awake in the first place. He kind of, like, _had_ to say something, because he wouldn’t have been able to shove his face into the pillows and pretend he hadn’t seen that. He would have suffocated from holding his breath and trying to hear every sound Harry made.

Harry startles but relaxes quickly and his hand stops moving in his pants. Louis’ so fiercely jealous of Harry’s hand right now, that it’s just resting on his hard dick, and he’s also so fiercely frustrated that Harry’s so openly straight and Louis hasn’t been anything but gay since the day he was born. He has no right to be mad about that, though. Or about the fact that he hasn’t told anyone he’s gay.

“Oh, sorry, mate. Thought you were asleep. Do you mind?” Harry says this like it’s just a minor thing, like Louis won’t think about this for the rest of his life. Like he’s just lit up a cigarette and doesn’t realize that Louis’ trying to quit his addiction. What a deep metaphor.

“Well it’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” Louis asks shakily, with a bit of a laugh. It’s very rude of him to imply that Harry should stop in the middle of wanking because who would do that? It’s just cruel, so Louis clears his throat and sits up. Harry’s eyes widen but he doesn’t do anything. “What are you watching, then?” Louis squints his eyes – it’s quite hard to see in the dark without his glasses – and reads aloud, “Big Titty Girl gets Fucked. Huh.”

Harry’s got very little shame but apparently enough to blush just a bit, and he shrugs. He hasn’t got any reason to be ashamed, really; it’s healthy for a teenage male, or any teenager really, to do this. Just not usually when your best friend is in bed next to you. Louis figures it isn’t that big of a deal if he does what he’s thinking of doing, and then he does it. He pushes his boxers down, like Harry’s, just so the elastic band rests below his balls and he takes his dick in his hand.

“Alright,” Harry says, turns back to the screen, and then it’s just a _thing_.

\--

Harry is fucking ridiculous when he wanks, Louis’ found out. His mouth forms this oval that Louis would like to sink his two fingers into, rub at his tongue, and then use the wetness to finger himself to an orgasm and have Harry not freak over it. But there’s still that unspoken rule of _don’t touch_ , and _be careful when you sneak a glance because you don’t want to be obvious_. Louis really hopes that Harry hasn’t figured out, yet, that Louis doesn’t watch the porn, but instead Harry and the way he sometimes uses both his huge hands to jack off. 

They don’t talk about it. They just – do it, and then clean up and play Fifa or something. Sometimes they cuddle, which is borderline gay, but Harry says it’s just friendly. Everything’s _just friendly_ for Harry about them, even the fact that when Louis curls himself up small and hides in Harry’s hold, Harry kisses his hair and slides his hand down Louis’ back repeatedly, down down down until he reaches the curve of Louis’ bum and then moves back up.

One time, after they’ve both pulled themselves to an orgasm, Louis rolls onto his side and says, “How would you feel if I was gay?”

“I’d feel just the same as you feel about me being straight, Lou,” Harry says softly, and Louis doesn’t explain that well, actually, Louis cares a lot about Harry being straight, but he appreciates Harry’s acceptance nonetheless. “But, like, you should’ve said it sooner, cause. Straight porn must be weird f’you, right?”

“It’s not _weird_ , just. I pay attention to the boy anyway, like you pay attention to the – girl.” Louis bites his lip and pulls the blankets higher up, so every bit of him is hidden but his eyes and up, and Harry smiles fondly at him.  They’re too sweet to each other sometimes.

“Just watch me next time, if you like,” Harry says instead of just nodding and going to sleep like a normal person; but then again, Harry’s never really been all that normal. At least not to Louis.

\--

“I’m gonna put on a lesbian one, then, if you’re gonna watch me.”

It’s oddly freeing, to be able to look down at Harry’s cock beside him and not feel worried about Harry catching him and saying something. He’s able to just – to just _do it_ , because Harry’s given him permission.

“Knock yourself out,” Louis breathes, examining each and every detail of Harry’s cock that he can without getting too close. He’s seen it before, but never for so long, without the nagging feeling of _I’m not allowed to look_. Harry’s dick is a nice pink color, curved just the slightest, and cut. Louis loves, _loves_ cut cocks. He’s basically salivating at this point, and it must show, because Harry coughs.

“You really are gay, then, huh?” His thumb is at the corner of his mouth and his eyes are on his laptop, finding a video. He can probably just sense Louis staring at him, his cock, and Louis wonders how Harry’s really feeling about all this. Maybe just a bit smug, if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by. Louis wants to go _yeah, yeah, I’m your best friend and I like your dick, so what_. It’s more than a so what, though, the way Louis would spread his legs open for Harry in a heartbeat and try as hard as he could to be everything Harry’s ever wanted.

It’s always been like that. When Louis was ten and Harry was eight and said he liked girls with cool hair colors, like in magazines, Louis dashed home and colored his honey-shaded hair green with food coloring he found in the pantry. He’d stumbled back outside to Harry who was in the sandbox and locked his hands behind his back, swaying and grinning and wanting Harry to notice just how pretty he was, and felt.

Only, Harry wasn’t looking; he was grinning his dimple-y grin at some little girls who were across the street with blue streaks in their hair that their rich daddies had bought them. Before Louis could yank on Harry’s arm and tell him to _look, look, I’m just like them_ , Louis’ mum had come running outside and yelled at Louis in front of everyone for being so foolish.

So Louis’ got a bit of a thing for Harry’s approval, and it’s a lot more than _so what_.

“Super gay, even,” Louis mumbles, thumbing the head of his dick and rutting his hips up as Harry leans back – he’s got a video playing, now – and gets comfortable. It should feel strange, that he’s wanking to Harry while Harry’s wanking to lesbians on screen, but it doesn’t. Or at least, Louis doesn’t feel strange. Just horny, stupidly fucking horny, and he’d be an idiot to pass an opportunity like this up.

Another unspoken rule that have is to, like, _not speak_. So Louis nearly squawks in surprise when Harry mutters out, “S’is working for you?” while his whole body jerks with how hard he’s pumping at his dick, and Louis’ whole body jerks at how gruff his voice is.

“I – f.. _yeah_ , it is.” Louis’ voice sounds airy and high and breathless, like he’s just to the point of breaking, because he is. Seeing the sweat on Harry’s stomach build up – because it’s hot in here, with two panting people and blankets all around – and the way the tip of his dick glistens and blurts out precome and how his abs start to contract when he’s close, like he is now, just, it’s. Louis’ never been able to fully appreciate wanking with his best friend until now.   

“Oh, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Harry groans, and Louis’ used to it but he’s _not_ , and he’s definitely not used to watching Harry arch and come across his hard, flat stomach, hand still jerking shakily at himself and Louis can’t do anything but watch and then come seconds later, with a whimper on his lips and his free hand clutching at the sheets below him.

It’s always a bit quiet, after; they catch their breath and Harry frequently plays with the pool of come on his stomach and tries to be funny and reaches his wet fingers over to Louis, saying, “Lick it.” Louis never mentions how badly he would like to.

This time, though, Harry doesn’t try to make a joke. It’s quiet and a little tense, and Louis feels like crying over it even though he’s still reeling from an amazing orgasm. That he got from watching his best friend.

He hears little giggles come from Harry, and they get louder, till he’s full-on cackling and rolling around and Louis thinks he’s mental.

“Louis. Lou. Guess what,” Harry says through his toothy pretty grin.

“What’s it, darling?”

“You just jacked off to me jacking off. That’s funny, isn’t it?” Harry laughs again and then crawls off the bed to get cleaned up, laughing his way out the door to the bathroom while Louis gapes and stares at his tiny bum. Harry’s right; Louis did just do that.

Harry’s still chuckling softly when he toddles back in because when he finds something funny he can laugh about it for days. Louis’ heart does this cute little thing where it stops beating for a bit.

“Hey, Haz?”

“Yes, pup?”

Louis’ heart kicks back up into overdrive. He loves it when Harry calls him pup. “Um, you’re not laughing _at_ me, are you?”

Harry’s grin slips off his face; it’s only slightly devastating. “Of course not. Up you come.” Harry holds his hands out and Louis scrambles off the bed, dried come on his tummy and all, and lets his very best friend scoop him up into his arms and coo over him.

Sometimes Louis wants to call Harry out on his bullshit, say how he’s so far up his own ass that he can’t see that he’s _not straight_ , but Louis’ selfish and worried that all of this will stop if he says something.

So he kisses Harry’s neck while they’re in this bubble and able to, while they’re not out and public and acting like proper best friends should.

\--

A few times later (seven, exactly) Harry says something that startles Louis out of taking his clothes off.

“What?” he asks, scratching his bare knee.

“I said, I’ve let you watch me.” Harry says it like an accusation; Louis’ skin starts to prickle unpleasantly.

“Yeah, so?” Louis replies nervously, fingernails scraping harder on his skin. He isn’t ready for this, yet. He isn’t ready for a confrontation from Harry, a product of Harry’s growing ego from all the girls who fall over him as school; he’s not ready for Harry to say _well are you in love with me yet, are you getting feelings for me._ He’s just starting to make excuses in his head like _I’m not getting feelings for you_ because he’s always had them, and then Harry’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“I was just thinking, like. You could do something for me.”

Louis relaxes at that, because fuck yeah, but his heart speeds up and his mouth salivates. He’s – had dreams about this. Of crawling onto the floor and getting on his knees and doing whatever the fuck Harry wants, because he just needs to feel that sick pleasure of when Harry groans and comes across his chest or up to his neck or into his hand, cupped over his slit. “I can do that. What you want. I can do it.” He hopes his eyes aren't too blown yet.

Harry smirks, the motherfucker. “Holland didn’t give me a blowjob like she said she was gonna. Just wanna – you don’t have to blow me. Just let me, ah, touch you. Can pretend you’re her, yeah?” He sounds unsure of himself for once as he finishes asking in the weird way that he did.

Louis’ a little disappointed; he’d wanted to give a blowjob. There’s hardly anything else he wants to do with Harry, sexually, than to just open his mouth up and have Harry fuck into it however he wants. Maybe he’s overly sexual for a nineteen year old, but maybe he’s not. “Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Louis purrs, his one attempt at actually trying to be sexual in a different way than touching himself. Harry bites his lip.

“Alright, just get on my lap.”

Louis nods and shakily takes off his clothes – after an order to – and then throws a leg over Harry’s thighs and sits himself down. Harry’s knees are up so Louis has something to lean back onto, but he doesn’t. He appreciates the notion, though.

Harry’s eyes are shut. Louis’ not too surprised, honestly, because Harry’s straight Harry’s straight Harry’sfucking _straight_ , and he stays still while Harry’s hands scale up his hips and move to his back, fingers trailing so lightly down the indent of his spine.

“So sexy, Holls,” Harry says on an exhale, and Louis just takes a sharp inhale. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to act when Harry’s knees move down and his hands come to knead at Louis’ ass, all while he moans about this girl he’s imagining touching. Louis’ cock is hard and leaking, curved up at his stomach and he notices how Harry’s hands never move to touch there. Not like Louis thought he would.

One of Harry’s fingers move between Louis’ bum cheeks and Louis holds his breath – can’t have it end, can’t can’t can’t – and Harry fucking _whines_. “Wet for me, aren’t you?” he says through a shudder. “Wet fucking _pussy_. Wanna fuckin’ eat it.”

Louis gets a whole-body shiver and he absolutely cannot fucking help it when he gasps out a _fuck_ , because Harry’s long finger is prodding and pushing at his hole and it’s driving him up the fucking wall; Harry’s eyes are still closed and his chest his flushed red and if Louis would just move his hips forward, just a little bit, he’ be grinding against Harry’s dick.

Harry’s hands move from Louis’ ass and slide round and up his chest, stopping at his nipples. His fingers pull at them and Harry mutters something that sounds like _small tits_ before he lifts his hand back far and slaps Louis’ ass, which makes him cry out and jerk his hips forward. Harry’s eyes snap open for a moment, and they stare at each other. “My pretty girl,” he simpers, his hands coming up to brush Louis’ eyelids shut.

Louis feels honestly faint. His dick his leaking so badly he’s sure it’s dropping down onto Harry’s abs, and his thighs are shaking like he’s about to come because he very much _is_. Harry’s hands attach to his hips and he feels Harry push himself up, so his dick is sliding between Louis’ ass, and it’s a bit slick like Harry’s spat on his hand and covered his dick or just used lube, maybe, but all Louis can think about is the buzz under his skin and how Harry’s cock catches at his rim every odd thrust.

“You’d have such a tight cunt, wouldn’t you?” Harry growls; Louis’ not sure if he’s talking to Louis directly or still in his fantasy type thing, so he keeps his mouth shut besides his helpless whimpers that are pushed out of him every time Harry brings a flat hand down on his ass. “Wouldn’t you, Louis? If you’d a cunt you’d be begging me to fuck you all the time. You’d want my cock so bad. You want my cock so bad.”

Louis groans and risks shooting his eyes open, and Harry’s looking straight back and they keep contact while Harry keeps sliding his dick over Louis and Louis tries to figure out how he’s so attracted to Harry’s narcissistic dirty-talk, but his brain is just static.

“Say it, Louis. Say you want me.” Harry’s so forceful; his words are nearly biting and he shoves Louis’ thighs apart just to make Louis make some kind of noise, even if it’s a soft cry. He keeps moving and moving and lifts a hand to quickly spit on his palm and rub over his dick before continuing, like he’s fucking Louis without being inside him.

“I-I _want_ you, Harry, I want you s-so _badly_ , I’ve _always_ , please,” Louis whines now that it seems like it’s okay for him to talk, to beg pathetically, and he does as much of it as he can until Harry’s jolting underneath him and holding Louis’ hips so painfully tight while he shouts and comes, body shaking and mouth mumbling absolutely filthy things like _such a dirty girl,_ _pussy hungry for me, want me so bad_. If Louis were in his right state of him he would chastise Harry for being so cocky, but he’s _not_ , so he just pitches forward and sinks his teeth into Harry’s collarbone while he very nearly withers to pieces and comes undone in Harry’s vice-like grip.

“Oh god, oh god oh god _oh god_ ,” Louis cries, tears of who-knows-what dripping out of his eyes and falling onto Harry’s already sweat-slick skin. It’s – it’s so much, so close to being too much, but he manages to keep it together enough and comes to when he hears Harry repeating his name over and over.

“C’mon, come back to me,” Harry’s saying, and Louis didn’t realize he even went anywhere. “That was the best orgasm I’ve had in my life,” Harry says, laughing briskly through the middle like he’s trying to make it a joke but he’s serious again in the end.

“I – me too,” Louis agrees, because it is true, and he leans up just in time for Harry to grab his face and kiss him hard on the lips, leaving no way for Louis to pull away in his grasp. Louis wouldn’t dare, anyway. “But I’m afraid that I’m not Holland anymore.”

Harry winces and plays with Louis’ fringe; it goes easily with Harry’s fingers with how much he’d sweated. “You’re Louis, aren’t you, babe.” He smiles softly, softer than Louis’ ever seen, and he feels like Harry’s actually looking at him like he was supposed to ever since they started this whole thing. Ever since Louis was ten and trying to impress Harry with his food-coloring-green hair.

“Yeah. M’Louis.”  

 


End file.
